Self

sometimes

when i look in the mirror

my blood freezes in my veins

my heart stops

 

because i don’t know who i am anymore

i let myself become them

and i don’t know how to not be them

 

that’s when i long for a car

when i could trade my soul

to run away

for two days alone

for a journey

 

~in need of self-discovery

Um, Title?

If anyone in the twenty-second century finds my poems and they’re considered classics and all that I can just imagine a teacher being like:

“Okay, class, who actually read Ivy’s famous ‘Um, Title?'”

But by then we might not have teachers…whoa…those lucky kids. Sorry my teachers make me go insane every day and I’m so ready to say goodbye _____________!

Sorry. Here’s poetry.


 

the teacher pissed me off

and maybe i was talking louder than necessary

but then she turned around

 

Wow, that’s the loudest I’ve ever heard Ivy speak!”

 

in that case

you’ve never

ever

heard me

 

but you wouldn’t know that,

would you?

wrapped up in your little bubble of

prettiness and popularity

 

I don’t know if you can call that poetry but there it is. This actually happened today and I thought girl you must be deaf because I am loud as fuck all the time and you only notice today – a week and a half before the end of eighth grade? We’ve been in the same class for nine months. Ugh.

Our semi-formal is this weekend – honestly it’s yet another popularity contest but hell yeah I’m going. Only because of my friends. Because I don’t have a date. Because I will be forever alone. 😅😜

There’s always Ohio Boy. Who asked me out. I honestly have no idea how that happened. He called me cute and I thought um, excuse me, do you need glasses? (I degrade myself too much). Of course I had to say no since my mom controls my life and would get pissed off to no end…but it happened…and I wanted to say yes…so does that count?

My life is a mess, but school’s almost over! Four more exams to go, and one’s tomorrow, but I’m pretty good at Spanish.

I will end up dying from too many heart attacks one after another – test stress, semi-formal, the pool party I miraculously got invited to, Ohio Boy…..

goodbye world

Sorry for the rant if you actually read this. And thank you guys for your unending support!

Also I couldn’t find a picture of screaming that didn’t look terrible so…

-Ivy

Ohio Boy

Finally I can write something happy! It’s all thanks to him..

I tried to write this in paragraphs but it just wasn’t working.


Ohio Boy,

you are the reason I feel the flutter

i haven’t felt in what might as well be a hundred years

i feel like i just went on a roller coaster

but all i did was talk to you

thank you for reminding me

that i am smart

that i am pretty

that got me through my test today

you don’t know

you were the first

to ever say these things to me

the first boy to ask me out

if only i could have said yes

i wish you didn’t take up quite so many of my thoughts

but i couldn’t care less

i know there’s a reason we met

and you’d better make it a good one

something

makes me want to make you feel

make you know

that you can be loved for more than just your body

But maybe I’m just being over-dramatic.

-Ivy

How I Heal

Moment.

That moment when your foot is falling towards the next place you need to step – and you don’t know if that rock is steady but you have to step on it, have to keep moving – that is the moment I live for  – whether I land unscathed or not.

 

Steady.

The pleasant clomp of my hiking boots – it’s amazing what a pair of shoes can do to a person – they make me feel steady and confident – I know I won’t slip with them on – whether I’m climbing the hardest trail on the mountain or flirting with you.

 

Peak.

Hours of picking out places to step and going up and up and up are so worth it. So worth it when I can see a small part of the world’s vastness from the top, when I can scream fuck as long and as loud as I want to, when I can sit in the sun’s glow and write, content to be alone with my words. A place where no one can judge me or challenge me, because I made it here perfectly fine by myself.

 

Promise.

And to you, the peak I have not yet reached, the ladders that scared me, the rocks that have cut open my leg, I will master you someday. I will climb both of your jutting peaks. And when I do, well, the world had better watch out.

 

Needs.

There are physical needs – food, shelter, clothing. There are the needs that fuel my soul – mastering the mountain.

 

Maybe.

I’ll master the mountain – perhaps I’ll kiss you on its heights someday – our lips tasting like the salt of sweat.

 

Machine.

There are many things I want to do in life. The one I hope for the most is mastering my body, turning it into something greater than it was when I was born. I want to learn how to fight, do back flips, more than two pull-ups, parkour, how to do that cool thing where you knock the gun out of the person’s hand and end up pointing it at them, and so much more.

 

Fierce.

I don’t just want to go to the top of a mountain, I want to run up the damn thing.

 

Long story short, I need to go hiking. I thought I’d put it into writing.

-Ivy

Used to.

Lonely.

when I was in love

there was a tsunami of words

rushing forth from within me

 

now i’m caged

lonely but for a few hours each day

depressed

i don’t feel like writing

the few words that appear in my mind down

 

all i want

is to get out of that gods-damned place

that has trapped me for five years

so sick of its constant popularity contest

every day brings me closer to the end

but it seems the days left multiply

 

maybe it’s a good thing everything fell apart now

so i was only alone

for a few months

instead of a few years

 

i’m so ready to leave

so ready to feel like i belong

somewhere


 

i want to scream

but when i try my throat dries up

 


 

Maybe.

i wish i had been better

maybe she wouldn’t have made you hate me

maybe i could have put a little goodness in your life

to counter her

 

how did we let one person

destroy four years of friendship

in a matter of months?

 

now you don’t want to talk to me

i have to plan what to say to you

and if you don’t hear me when i say it the first time

i just say never mind afraid that what i had to say was stupid

 

maybe i fucked up

maybe you left for her

maybe she fucked us up

 

what matters is that we’re fucked

fucked up into tiny sparkling pieces

still flying through the air towards my skin

it hurts as they find their home

drawing blood from deep beneath my skin

 

whatever.

it’s too late now.

isn’t it?

my heart breaks when i think good riddance

 

i always wanted to share high school with you

until now

and now

i have to share high school with her.

 

-Ivy

All my poetry sucks lately – it’s just a mess of shitty feelings. At least when I had those light crush feelings my poetry made sense.

Everything used to make sense.

used to.

 

Had you been there

you would have ran over to me in a heartbeat

we’d start gushing about how much

we love Annabel Lee.

 

But you weren’t.

Because of the force that had kept us separated since the sixth grade

the same force that had left me with friends

who left me.

 

She said she’d promised her

that she would come

but no

she’d promised me.

 

Sorry all my poetry is a nonsense rant. I don’t have time to explain. Never enough time. Never enough years under my belt because had I already had a driver’s license and car I would have been gone, gone, gone.

Summer is coming in 20 school days but I’ll only get to do one thing I want the whole time. I need a therapeutic hiking trip that I probably won’t get. I need to climb to the top of huge rocks and scream. I need those moments where your foot is falling to the next place to step and you don’t know if it’s stable but you have to keep moving. I need to add another scar to the growing map of adventures on my skin.

I need to be able to run away on my own, but instead I’m stuck for two more years. A part of the reason I need to scream.

More nonsense. Ugh. At any rate, I hope your week was better than mine.

-Ivy

 

Revolution

You are a revolution

You are a heart attack

You are everything

You are what they’re chasing after

 

And if you don’t feel that way

You still have a few years left to grow

Or

You haven’t met the person who will make you feel everything worth feeling

 

But you will

Trust me, you will

I wouldn’t be writing this if it weren’t true


I am indeed alive!

I just came back from a school trip to the Outer Banks, the highlight of which was Jockey’s Ridge. When you stand the top of one of the dunes in the middle of it, you feel like you’re in the middle of nowhere. Or the Sahara Desert. The feeling of freedom was … drug-like. I wanted to bottle it up and keep it forever.

If I ever need to get away, I know where to go. I also wrote up (very imprecise) plans for my eighteenth birthday. And wrote some fanfiction. It was pretty great.

But I won’t bore you too much. The good news is that spring break is a school week away. My family is going to the beach to enjoy our Easter. I’m excited!

Thanks for your continued support!

-Ivy

Caged In Life/Love/Honestly What The Fuck Is Life?

Today I realized how routine my future will be and how trapped I’ll feel.

 

I just want to drive away, climb to the top of the hardest trail I can find, and stay there forever.

 

I want to be sixteen.

 

I want a car.

 

I want out.

 

And maybe – when I’ve gotten my shit together – someone to share out with.

Image result for wisdom tree hike

(Wisdom Tree, LA, on my bucket list)

Someone to sit under the one tree at the top of the trail with and make me feel like I have a reason to be here – that I am worth more than I will ever think I am. Someone who will tell me it’s the feelings not the thoughts that count. A fellow music addict, possibly insane person, hiker, exerciser, deep thinker, meaningful conversation-haver, pervert, love obsessionaire, etc., etc. Someone who by being in my life will make me a better person.

Someone once told me that love isn’t just a feeling, but a decision. Which made sense, but I didn’t agree. We can’t choose who we fall in love with/feel love for, but we can decide whether they are worthy. Not the snooty kind of worth – no – someone who will treat you the way you deserve, reign you in when you’re being a shitty person, and somehow know when you need to be alone, when you need silent arms around you, when you need a kiss to brighten your day. And maybe once in a while but you flowers and chocolate (or if you’re me blindfold you and drive you somewhere beautiful). Who won’t be worried about being sexist or about not hitting a girl when you need to wrestle someone around. (What? We’ve already established that I’m weird).

You may not be perfect, but somehow you make each other better. That’s love.

Sorry. Somehow everything I write winds back up at love.

My life feels like a cage right now. And in that cage there’s a noose. It started as a big loop around the entire thing, but it’s tightening tighter around my neck. And heart.

The normal resting heart rate of a human being is 60-100 beats per minute. I had a day (a particularly stressful one) last week where I was sitting there at my desk watching a video or something and my heart rate was 123 bpm. (Perks of an Apple Watch you can measure your heart rate). That’s not healthy. It’s a noose.

Sorry. What am I even apologizing for? I don’t know Ivy stop doing this you know people look at you funny when you talk to yourself.

I just had one of those moments where I had to pause my music and then turned on again and was like: whoa who turned this shit up so loud??? Then: Oh. I did.

 

I’m going to sign off now. Another kinda shitty post. Oh well. Thanks for reading if you’ve gotten this far. Congratulations – you’ve crossed the finish line.

-(Caged) Ivy

Quote of the Day – A Beautiful Poem From Evie

today i talked to the ocean

and i saw anger in her eyes.

i laid my hand on top of

hers and said,

honey, i know.

 

Go on over to lettersfromabrokenperson.wordpress.com to find more beautiful and inspiring poetry that rings with truth! Evie also posts truly deep things that have you thinking for days after reading them. I’d say she’s one of the nicest people I have the pleasure of knowing, but she’s the nicest person I know. She’s lovely and deserves all the best – thanks for being a part of my support team and not judging me – even though you’ve had about twenty million reasons to do so.

I’m reading a book based in the 18th or 19th century and the wording is starting to rub off on me and I love it so much! I need sleep a lot – I’m slowly losing my ability to perform basic tasks… On a happier note, tennis is tomorrow and there’s one more day left before Friday. And I have tennis on Saturday and Sunday. Maybe I’ll have a sudden burst of confidence and ask them all these questions. Or they’ll ask me questions.

What Will Actually Happen:

*total silence on both ends*

What Would Happen If Someone Spoke: (S= Skateboarder)

S: Hey! You!

Me: Huh?

S:What’s your name?

Me: Um, er, um, Ivy. *clears throat awkwardly*

S: You’re a pretty good tennis player, Ivy.

Me: Sometimes. What’s your name?

S: Levi.

Me: You’re a pretty good skateboarder, Levi. How old are you?

S: *Smiles* Sometimes. I’m seventeen.

Us: blah blah blah conversation that will never even happen

 

Ivy is listening to: No Money by Galantis, Drive by Halsey

Time to finish my math homework. Because I know my future career will need me to be able to find the missing side of a “special” right triangle.

-Ivy